


Shoes

by vericus



Series: Sparks Alex/Megatron AU [4]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen, Graphic Descriptions of Fake Injuries, Humour, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vericus/pseuds/vericus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some human 'holidays' that Megatron has absolutely no trouble celebrating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> For Boomstick Brigade. But mostly Caz.

To say Megatron was bored in the valley would be like calling the Cybertronian civil war a brotherly spat. This wasn't helped by the fact that both Autobots and Decepticons avoided the former Decepticon leader, and there was only one human he didn't immediately want to squish the moment they got within sensor range. So whenever there was something interesting going on, he tended to gravitate towards it - not only was it something different, but a commotion generally meant that everybody was too concerned with other things to remember that they were trying to avoid him. Not that he particularly cared whether or not they avoided him, he just found himself in need of entertainment from time to time.

In this particular instance, it was a somewhat more familiar commotion than normal. You couldn't call yourself a true Cybertronian these days, Autobot OR Decepticon, unless you'd had a run-in with the Hatchet. Today it seemed some poor human was getting a first-hand introduction to the more temperamental side of the medic, and the thought of a human quivering in fear was more than enough reason for Megatron to make his way over.

Ratchet was, as usual, audible even outside the walls of the valley med bay. Most of the other Cybertronians were skirting around it nervously, but Megatron had no problems sauntering up to the door and walking right in. A smirk appeared the moment he identified his brother's bulk inside, and it grew into a full-fledged grin as he saw the human that was the center of attention - Optimus's charge, of course. Ratchet was holding the little meatsack in his hand, and judging from the way she was squirming, he was doing so mostly because she kept trying to escape.

"- quite possibly toxic, and even if it isn't, most of the products are far from being used correctly -" Megatron tuned in to Ratchet's rant long enough to decide he didn't care what it as about. He was far more entertained watching the squishy human try to escape the grasp of a medic that had years of experience dealing with the likes of Sideswipe and Jazz - not to mention Optimus himself. She had no chance. That was half of what made her attempts so entertaining, of course. Megatron was counting the number of minutes before Ratchet just grabbed her by the back of her shirt and held her up by that - it was close enough to a scruff bar to be used as one.

Of course, then the meatsack _bit_ Ratchet's finger, and Optimus finally decided to step in and advise her to just sit tight and take her lumps. His brother took a half-step closer, and his charge's attention turned from the medic to the Prime, her head turning around to that Megatron could see her full face for the first time.

Amusement abruptly left Megatron for reasons he'd rather not contemplate as he saw the raw, bleeding sore stretching along Alex's left cheek. It went right over her eye, which was a milky white in colour, the pupil entirely gone. Three strides, and Megatron was next to the medic, plucking the meatsack out of his hand. He was barely aware of the sudden, surprised silence in the med bay as he held Alex up by the back of her shirt. Her face wasn't the only injury, he noted in a quick once-over. She had a gash on her right leg, and there was red smeared across her belly, dirt and blood encrusting her hands and forearms. Her clothes were a complete mess. Megatron's optics narrowed as he focused on her glaring expression.

"Explain."

"No," she replied huffily, crossing her arms as best she could in her current position.

"Explain or I'll drop you," Megatron sneered.

"Can't," the impudent little meatsack replied, sticking her tongue out at him. Megatron scowled, none too happy about the reminder of the Allspark's restrictions on him, and instead did a quick scan of her, which oddly reported her to be in perfect health. Frowning, Megatron reached out and poked the wound on her leg. She squawked irritably. "Oh come on, that took like an hour to do, and I haven't even gotten any pictures yet!" Realizing that the wounds were just make-up, Megatron snorted irritably.

"Foolish fleshling. If you wanted to be dead so much, I know a few mechs that could have helped you," he sneered.

" _Un_ dead, thankyouverymuch!" Optimus's charge replied with annoyance. Megatron sneered again and handed her back to Ratchet, then turned and stalked out. He wasn't in the mood for entertainment anymore.

It was days later when curiosity and boredom finally got the better of him, and he went in search of Autobots to pester into telling him why, exactly, the meatsack had decided to dress up as an undead creature.

\---

**One year later....**

"No, seriously, letting them open a joint in here would be like signing a deal with Unicron," Alex was telling Prowl earnestly, while Optimus watched on with amusement.

"Several of our other human allies have requested some form of accommodation for their refueling needs, and as this particular company has already expressed an interest -"

"Dude. No. Starbucks does not get to open a joint in _my_ valley!"

"This is not _your_ valley."

"Is so. I made it," Alex replied with a sniff.

"The _Allspark_ made it," Prowl replied patiently.

"While it was _possessing_ me. Therefore it's as good as if I made it. Which makes it _my_ valley, so therefore -" Alex's attention was abruptly diverted as the door to the valley bar opened and, as usual, she glanced over to see who it was. In this particular case, the new arrival abrupt distracted her not because of their identity, but because of their appearance. She wasn't the only one distracted, either. All around the bar, Cybertronians and humans turned to stare as Megatron ambled over to the energon dispenser and got himself a cube before turning and finding himself a seat at the same unusually slow pace. Not that anybody really noticed his pace - they were a little distracted by the smoldering hole in his chest, exactly where his spark chamber should be. Off at his table with Bee and Mikaela, Sam was busy hyperventilating, while Alex's head tilted to the side.

"Hah!" Her loud exclamation as she figured it out made most of the bar jump, and then Alex was scrambling across the table and down the ladder attached to the leg for humans. She trotted across the floor to Megatron's table, where he casually gave her a lift up. Much to his annoyance, she didn't get off his hand onto the table, instead climbing up his arm, and swinging down over his shoulder armor to poke at his chest. "Dude. It's even radiating heat. I'm so jealous."

"Holograms are far superior to your human 'make-up' compounds," Megatron sneered.

"Well duh," Alex replied sensibly, inspecting the wound in his chest a bit more. "Seriously. That's impressive. Do it yourself?"

"That yellow menace was more than happy to assist once I managed to corner his brother and explain, actually," Megatron drawled.

"Bahaha, no kidding?" Alex was grinning now.

"They also may or may not have had anything to do with this, depending on whether or not it's Ratchet that's asking," Megatron added casually, holding up something that, to him, was small. For Alex, it was setup as a moderately-sized backpack, and she slipped it on curiously. "Switch is on the back." Craning her head and twisted her arm around, Alex managed to hit the switch. She sat there for a moment, then looked down at herself.

"I don't get it. What did it do?"

"Something incredibly disturbing," Optimus rumbled, having arrived at the table silently while the two of them were occupied. The rest of the bar had mostly gone back to their own business by now, though most were watching out of the corner of their optics. Mikaela, who had also figured out what was going on, was laughing and trying to explain it to a still freaked-out Sam. "Turn it off?"

"Why? What did it do?" Alex said, trying to peer back at it as if she could see the answer on the small machine.

"It's masking your real signature and duplicating the last sensor readings Sideswipe got off your body before the valley was created," Optimus said, sounding pained. "Please turn it off." Telling Alex what it did was, of course, entirely the wrong thing to do.

"I repeat - why?" she asked, looking up at the Prime and grinning. Optimus sighed, then glared at his brother.

"This is all your fault," he said.

"Actually, it's hers," Megatron replied casually.

"Technically, it's Barricade's," Alex retorted pleasantly, then frowned. "No, wait, we decided it was Optimus's fault."

" _This_ is not my fault," Optimus told her firmly.

"Is too."

"It is not."

"Is too."

"It is -" Optimus paused, his attention wandering for a second to an apparently private communication over the Autobot network. Then, suddenly, he grinned, and slid into a seat across from Megatron. His brother arched an optic ridge at him - and then to everyone's surprised, the Prime abruptly collapsed into a pile of parts, his spark signature disappearing.

There were curses and yelps around the bar, and just as the panic started, Sideswipe burst into the bar.

"You were supposed to wait, Prime!" the red twin whined as his optics locked on the pile of parts. Peering around his brother, Sunstreaker ran a critical optic over the pile.

"Coulda done better if I'd had more time," he decided dismissively, pushing Sideswipe the rest of the way inside the bar and stomping over to the energon dispenser.

"You seem to have done a spectacular job as it is, Sunstreaker," the pile of parts said with Optimus's voice, sounding almost gleeful.

"He's just sour because Ratchet confiscated ours after s _omeone_ got spotted and then used us as a distraction," Sideswipe said, scowling at Megatron. The former Decepticon leader just smirked back him.

"What, really?" Alex whined. "Ratchet is such a spoil-sport!"

"I know, right? He was going on about having enough trouble keeping us alive without us trying to make ourselves look dead, which makes _no_ sense whatsoever!" Sideswipe whined as he flopped himself into a chair next to the pile-of-Prime-parts.

"Considering what the two of you have looked like when brought into his med bay sometimes, I suspect your holograms brought back too many memories, Sideswipe," Optimus commented.

"Still! It's all in good fun, I ever offered to give him the override for it, but nooooo!" Sideswipe whined. Sunstreaker snorted as he set a cube of energon down in front of his twin, then joined them with his own cube. He casually flicked one of Optimus's 'parts' out of the way of his cube as he sat down.

"Hey! That was my...what was that, anyways?" Optimus asked.

"Primary knee servo," Sunstreaker said with a smirk.

"Behind on your anatomy there, Optimus," Megatron drawled.

"You get a little rusty when you have the best medic in the galaxy taking care of you," Optimus said with slight defensiveness. Anything that might have been said in response was cut off as the door to the bar burst open for a second time, this time for Jazz.

"Why the slag wasn't I in on a valley zombie walk, and how the frag am I supposed to cut myself in half?!" the Autobot third-in-command demanded, only a slight whine entering his voice at the end. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, and somebody whack Prowl on the back of the helm? He's been stuck in a loop since Megs walked in."

**\- THE END -**


End file.
